


Miles to Go

by twoshipsdrifting



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Angst, Basically, M/M, Pining, ps Niall and Louis are barely there, so many gross feelings ugh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 06:27:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4380743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoshipsdrifting/pseuds/twoshipsdrifting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written for the prompt:</p>
<p>Alpha!Liam and Omega!Zayn are being thrown into an arranged marriage, to unite their packs. Zayn's a stubborn omega and refuses to be charmed by the lovely alpha when they meet up. (A/B/O mixed in with werewolves basically)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miles to Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [delicate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delicate/gifts).



> I was so, so in love with this prompt! I hope this does it some sort of justice!
> 
> title is robert frost bc I'm a fuckin nerd and I don't pretend otherwise

It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it.

He’s not saying that.

He’s thought about it, maybe even fantasized about it.

Everyone has.

And he supposes it is kinda romantic, like…in an abstract fantasy kind of way.

Sure, bond with an alpha, secure your family’s status, so on and so on.

There’s tons and tons of romance novels with this exact plot. 

Not that he’s read them.

Except he has.

They’ve maybe been his guilty pleasure ever since he found out he was in fact an omega.

 

So yeah, okay, Zayn has thought about bonding with an alpha.

Really, he’s _known_ he would bond with one, since he presented as an omega.

But he hadn’t seen this part coming.

He’s always been his sister’s awkward little brother, gangly and so much thinner than his father.

Zayn looked in the mirror and still saw that boy most days. 

He tried to look tough, tried to _be_ tough, but it was all just an act.

And how he’d been selected by their Alpha to bond with the young alpha from another pack.

In return, their pack gets a trade agreement that will make sure they all eat for the next five years.   
His family will be set for life.

But he hadn’t seen this coming.

 

Sure, his sisters are beautiful – his whole family is if he’s being honest – but Zayn can’t make it connect in his brain.

Why choose him?

There’s plenty older and stronger than he is.

His mum insists he’s growing into his face and he’s going to break a few hearts, but Zayn just doesn’t get it.

He doesn’t get any of this.

Worse, still he’s not sure he wants to be bonded at eighteen.  He feels frightfully young and like the whole world is on his shoulders, too.

Zayn has a choice, slim as it is, and his rights are being respected…as much as they can be.

Heats are unpredictable and uncontrollable if omegas are not bonded to an alpha or beta.

 

Still, Zayn thought he would have a bit more time.

And he thought it would be less of a…thing.

He mostly thought that he would travel a bit and meet an alpha to bring home.  Something quiet and simple.

That was what Zayn wanted.

Not all of this pressure and prestige over who he was going to let fuck him.

And on top of that, what if he couldn’t stand this alpha?  What if he was like Tony, one of the alphas in their village?

Zayn couldn’t _stand_ Tony, and not just for the way he stared at Zayn’s bonded sister.

He feels dizzy and nauseous at the thought.

 

What if Zayn hates this alpha?  Or worse, what if Zayn hates this alpha but doesn’t realize it until after the ceremony?

Zayn inhales clean air from the tree branch he’s perched on and lets it out painstakingly slow.

He just needs to keep breathing, and he just needs to allow what will happen to happen.

If he wants to believe in fate, then he was chosen for this for a reason. 

No matter what happens, his family will be taken care of.

For that – Zayn can suffer anything.

 

He kicks idly at a leaf, stilling when he hears footsteps approaching. 

No one from his village tends to come out this far, other than him.   
That’s the sole reason Zayn comes out here. 

For a searing moment, all he can do is panic.   
Then he forces himself to breathe. 

It’s fine – it’s not like chances are high that whoever’s out here is a psycho killer. 

He’ll just climb higher until he knows he’s out of sight.   
It’s fine. 

 

Then he remembers his shoes are still on the ground. 

Zayn freezes again, trying to think.

If whoever is coming is a werewolf, they’ll hear him scrambling down and back up.  
If they’re human, he’ll be fine. 

Zayn doesn’t really know what to think. 

The party from the pack west of them isn’t due until tomorrow, but it’s possible they’ve sent someone ahead.   
Someone on foot?  
Zayn frowns.  
Which means they’re most likely a werewolf. 

Zayn turns to climb higher again. 

 

            “Hello?” a voice calls out.  “Who’s up there?” 

Zayn’s so shocked his foot slips right off the trunk of the tree, sending his entire body perilously sideways. 

He gasps, trying to hold on. 

They’d been _running_.  How could he have been so stupid not to notice? 

Zayn doesn’t have another moment to berate himself, because then he’s falling. 

Logically, Zayn knows he should go limp to minimize injury – instinctively he curls as small as he can, hitting several branches on the way down anyway. 

The ground is softer at least. 

 

“Jesus,” the same voice says, “are you alright?” 

Zayn draws in a small breath. 

The pain hasn’t fully sunk in yet.   
He knows enough to not move though. 

            “You startled me,” Zayn says. 

He draws in another breath, tensing as the alpha kneels next to him. 

            “You’re bleeding,” he says, reaching out to touch Zayn’s cheek.  “Can you move?  Did you want to try and sit up?” 

Zayn blinks up at him before carefully untwisting his legs.  He exhales slowly.

            “I don’t think anything is broken.  Mum will be angry with me though.” 

            “Yeah?” the alpha asks quietly, his hands move behind Zayn’s shoulders, helping to tug him up. 

            “I’m getting bonded tomorrow,” Zayn tells him.  “I’ll look like hell.” 

 

There’s a long beat of silence and Zayn thinks he was right earlier, this must be a member of the west pack. 

            “Are you getting bonded for your tree climbing skills?” the alpha asks him. 

It shocks a laugh from Zayn, tensing at the resounding pain. 

He reaches up with a scraped hand and moves his hair out of his face, really looking at the alpha for the first time. 

“Alright?” he asks. 

Zayn’s eyes drop to his mouth and his heart _aches_. 

Why is this happening to him? 

 

“Are you concussed?” the alpha asks him, leaning forward to peer into his eyes. 

            “I’m fine,” Zayn says.   
He pushes to his feet unsteadily, stumbling and nearly falling. 

The alpha’s hands are on him then, hot and huge as they settle him. 

Zayn exhales harshly, twisting away. 

“ _Don’t_ ,” he nearly shouts, “don’t touch me.” 

The alpha tenses and takes three steps back. 

            “Sorry,” he says, brushing his hands on his shirt like he’s trying to wipe Zayn away. 

            “No I’m…I’m getting bonded,” Zayn says.  “You’re an alpha.  I don’t want to make this guy mad before I even meet him. I’m already gonna be,” he stops and gestures to his face, “my family is depending on me.” 

            “Maybe he’ll understand,” the alpha suggests. 

His eyes are kind. 

Zayn wants so much.   
Too much. 

            “Most alphas are…” Zayn shakes his head, pulling hair out of his face again. 

            “You don’t want to get bonded?” 

Zayn shakes his head. 

Already his mind is whirling as he tries to think a way out of this. 

What are the chances?

Maybe this is fate?

He doesn’t know this alpha at all – he can’t already be in love with him.  
But Zayn wants to know him.   
He wants so much. 

 

            “I didn’t think it was going to happen like this,” Zayn says.  “I never thought there would be all this pressure.  What if I don’t even like him?  I have to bond with him anyway?  I don’t-” he cuts himself off, lips twisting. 

            “Let’s get you cleaned up,” the alpha says softly. 

He tears a sleeve off his t-shirt and approaches Zayn slowly. 

Zayn tenses but doesn’t move as the alpha dabs at his cuts. 

_Why can’t he be like you?_ Zayn thinks.

He doesn’t say it out loud. 

But he doesn’t dare hope the alpha will be like this one.

 

His parents aren’t thrilled with him, but Doni says she’ll help out, and Zayn’s pretty sure he’ll look good as new for the meeting tomorrow. 

The alpha from the woods hasn’t appeared in their village, and Zayn isn’t sure where he went.   
Did he circle back to his party?   
But what would he do that for?

Zayn thinks he’d better stop thinking about the alpha he knows he can’t have. It’s only making him more nervous about this.   
Even if mysteries are a good distraction. 

Zayn fluffs his pillow and lies back again. 

Everything will be fine. 

After all, he’s really good at keeping his mouth shut.   
There’s no possible way he can screw this up.

… 

Zayn has to get up extraordinarily early to get ready the next morning. 

He can’t help but think of the sequence in _Mulan_ as he showers and scrubs himself nearly raw. 

He wraps his head in a towel and pulls on some trackies to seek out Doni, settling into a chair at the kitchen table with a resigned sigh. 

He’ll be lucky to get in half a cup of coffee between all the patting and setting and contouring she’s doing. 

            “He won’t even be able to tell your cheek is swollen,” Doni promises, grinning at him before setting back to work. 

            “Don’t care if he does,” Zayn mutters. 

 

He’s not _that_ bitter about what happened yesterday.

Yes he is. 

It’s just not fair?

Zayn knows there’s no point being bitter of what he has no control over, but still. 

            “Don’t even need mascara,” Doni grumbles, swiping some gloss over his bottom lip. 

Zayn grimaces at her, swinging himself out of the chair and swiping at his mouth. 

Doni slaps the part of his arm she can reach in response. 

“Don’t mess up the artwork.” 

            “Thought I was the artwork,” Zayn shoots back, heading back upstairs to deal with his hair. 

 

Zayn can’t manage to eat much, stomach twisted up with nerves he can’t seem to shake off. 

What if something really terrible happens? 

But what if something really terrible doesn’t happen?

What if nothing happens at all?

What if this alpha is the most boring person Zayn has ever met?

What if he doesn’t love him or hate him or even like him at all?  
What if this alpha is the personification of mayonnaise? 

Zayn takes a breath and lets it out. 

He just needs to stay calm. 

It’s not like anything is for sure yet.   
He can always change is mind. 

If he _absolutely_ has to. 

 

They don’t have a space big enough to house everyone and their visitors so they’ve set up tables outside. 

It’s basically like an outdoor wedding.   
That thought makes Zayn clench his jaw. 

Or it’s just a really big picnic.   
That’s fine, it’s a picnic.  

A picnic to give away his virginity. 

Zayn sighs at himself. 

 

This is a good thing. 

He’ll be fine. 

 

Things are okay.   
For now.

There’s flowers and streamers and it looks really nice, actually. 

Zayn mostly can’t believe all of this is for him. 

Alright, so it’s mostly for tradition, but this time around Zayn just happens to be at the center of that tradition.   
So it’s close enough.

He sticks close to his parents though, getting tired of everyone looking at him or – even worse – coming over to talk to him. 

 

It gets to the point where Zayn just wants to get it over with. 

And, of course, about five minutes after that, the children start screaming and running. 

Over the hill, there’s a group of wolves approaching. 

 

For two beats, Zayn doesn’t dare to breathe. 

When he drags in a deep inhale, he thinks he can smell them.   
Probably just imagining that though. 

They’re too far away for him to make out any faces, and even if he could, it’s not as if the alpha that’s coming for him would be walking in the front. 

Tradition and all.

 

Zayn doesn’t have to say anything at all.

His mum gives his hand a squeeze and presses a kiss to his temple.   
Then she immediately coos at him and smears her lipstick back off his face. 

Zayn can’t help a quick laugh, even as he winces.

            “Mum, please.” 

            “You don’t have to do anything, Heart.  But, just give it a chance.  Alright?” 

            “Yeah,” he says carefully, “alright.” 

 

As much as Zayn wants to walk behind his parents, he figures that’s not the best first impression to give his mate. 

He sucks in a deep breath and tightens up his shoulders. 

He can do this. 

Most of the wolves from his settlement have split into two groups on either side. 

The approaching group and he and his parents are walking between them now. 

Zayn has to take another deep breath. 

 

The group is close now, and slowly they part. 

Zayn’s ears fill with buzzing and he can’t breathe at all. 

It’s the alpha from the day before. 

The alpha is _his_ alpha. 

Zayn stops walking, his father’s hand settling on his back. 

It’s steadying, warm. 

He can breathe. 

 

Zayn can’t help a smile, tentative as it is. 

He starts moving forward again.  

They stop barely three feet from each other and Zayn’s skin is practically vibrating. 

            “I’m Liam,” the alpha, _Liam_ , says. 

His mouth is lush and his eyes seem bottomless. 

Zayn sucks in another breath. 

            “Hello,” he says. 

It’s nonsensical.   
He knows. 

“Zayn,” he says after another moment.  “Good to meet you.” 

 

It’s not like they slip off to a tent and fuck right then, except the way Zayn’s heart is racing, it’s like he forgot that. 

He keeps running over yesterday. 

He keeps running over the first time he saw Liam. 

He thinks he loved him then, and sure that’s not really possible, but still.

 

Now they all eat. 

And it’s awkward with Zayn and Liam sharing a picnic table all to themselves. 

Everyone’s watching them between bites, waiting for something to happen. 

Nothing does happen though.  
They eat and watch each other. 

Zayn wants to speak to Liam, really speak to him.  
Only half the tables surrounding them can hear. 

That’s better than all of them, he supposes. 

 

            “Can we talk?” Zayn asks.

He feels like he’s been staring at his plate for two hours and he knows the rules, he knows he can ask for this. 

There’s no reason for Liam to deny him either.

They’ve already been alone together.  
If either of them was going to try and kill the other, they’d have done it by now. 

Though Zayn hadn’t known Liam was his alpha at that point – but still. 

Liam nods at him, swiping at his mouth with his fingertips and taking a quick drink. 

            “Into the woods?” 

            “Yeah,” Zayn agrees.

His heart is still racing. 

 

They walk until they’re truly alone and Zayn wishes he knew what to say. 

            “Yesterday,” he tries. 

            “You smell like your mother,” Liam says. 

            “You knew,” Zayn realizes. 

Liam nods.  
He looks away. 

“Fuck,” Zayn says.  “I’m sorry for what I said.  I was angry and scared – it wasn’t fair to you.” 

            “We both have reasons for doing this,” Liam says. 

 

Zayn pauses at that, voice balling up in his throat until his chest is tight with all the trapped carbon dioxide. 

“We’re obligated to our families,” Liam says next.

He still won’t look at Zayn. 

            “No,” Zayn tries again, “I mean yes – we are.  But yesterday I wasn’t,” he can’t make the words go right in his head though.   
His heart is beating painfully fast, a furious rhythm against his ribs and it’s like his lungs just can’t compete. 

“I saw you and you were beautiful,” Zayn admits. 

He closes his eyes. 

Liam snorts. 

Zayn’s eyes shoot open and at the look on Liam’s face he wants to die. 

 

Or – not die.   
That’s a bit dramatic. 

But still.

The look on Liam’s face hurts. 

“I wanted it to be you, I think,” Zayn says.  “I wanted to fall in love the normal way and there you were and –”

            “Stop,” Liam cuts him off sharply.  “Just stop.  I don’t want to hear.” 

Liam moves a hand to his hair and seems to remember suddenly that it’s gelled back. 

He shakes himself and lets his hand drop. 

“You’re doing this for your family and so am I.  I don’t need romance – I don’t need you to love me.  All I ask is that you respect me enough to tell me the truth.” 

            “But I –”

            “No.” 

Just like that the discussion is over.

 

Liam turns away and walks back the way they came.

…

Zayn spends the walk back trying not to panic.

He can fix this.   
He knows he can. 

What if he can’t?

He can. 

He _can_. 

Really, Zayn needs to look on the bright side here.

Liam is his alpha. 

_Liam_.

Zayn stifles a sigh at the thought. 

And even if he was hurt by Zayn yesterday, he didn’t say anything about not bonding with him.  He said they’d go ahead with it. 

He has time to fix this. 

 

The gathering has more or less devolved into a party, and Zayn is grateful when someone presses a beer into his hand. 

He just needs to relax for now. 

He’ll find a way to make Liam listen to him.  
He’ll find a way to fix things. 

Because he could love Liam – and he can only hope that Liam could love him too.

…

Zayn already has his bags packed, ready to move into a house a few rows over from his own. 

Until his first heat, until their bond is official, they’ll stay in his settlement. 

Once they make it official, they will either stay in the same house or they’ll go back to Liam’s settlement. 

Zayn doesn’t really know what to hope for at this point. 

Other than finding a way to make this work.

 

Zayn doesn’t expect anyone to be with Liam, which seems stupid now that he’s watching Liam and two boys he hasn’t met carrying boxes into the house. 

One boy is blond and cheerful, offering Zayn a smile before heading up the stairs. 

The other though – that’s a different story. 

His anger seems to permeate the room.  He hasn’t spoken to Zayn yet, and Zayn’s reasonably sure he prefers it that way. 

He focuses on the house instead. 

It’s a simple house, small but charming. 

The front door opens to a living room, the kitchen and laundry room are just behind it.   
The dining room is directly across from the kitchen and behind it is a guest bathroom. 

Though Zayn supposes he and Liam will have to decide if they’re sharing a bathroom. 

Upstairs are two bedrooms and another bathroom. 

 

Liam took the smaller bedroom already. 

Zayn isn’t sure how he feels about it. 

He supposes he should be grateful.

But he feels a bit guilty too. 

Shouldn’t they be sharing anyway?   
Isn’t their bonding inevitable?

Zayn unwraps another plate and stacks it in the cabinet. 

They’re presents from Liam’s parents – he’s brought a lot of things with him. 

Zayn’s not sure how he feels about that either. 

 

Like maybe Liam is investing a lot more in this than he is. 

What if he can’t fix it?

Zayn reminds himself that his parents helped provide for this house. 

He’s putting in just as much.   
And he can make this work. 

 

A box thunks down on the counter next to him, making Zayn jump. 

            “What’s your problem?” the sharp one demands.  “Think you’re too good for my Liam?” 

            “No,” Zayn says, “I just-”

            “Save the simpering omega act, yeah?” 

Zayn drags in a breath. 

            “I want this to work,” he says. 

            “Yeah, yeah,” he flips fringe out of his face, “for your family and all.  You’re not half as noble as Liam so don’t even try.” 

            “I’m not trying to be more noble-”

            “Louis,” Liam says from the doorway, “there’s more boxes.” 

 

Zayn breathes in and out again. 

He turns back to the cabinet and puts away another plate. 

In another two moments, he’s alone. 

He unpacks dishes methodically, finding a place for every item they have. 

When the boxes are empty he folds them just as methodically as he’d put the dishes away.

The house is quiet, the only sounds coming from Liam’s headphones upstairs. 

Zayn sighs to himself. 

He climbs the stairs slowly – he wants to set up his room before he sleeps.

…

As much as Zayn wants to start over with Liam – he doesn’t think he can. 

He doesn’t think it’s pride that stops him.  
Not really. 

He more thinks that he’s afraid Liam will reject him. 

Zayn feels like a coward. 

He’s only afraid of what he’s already done to Liam. 

And he should be willing to face that. 

 

It’s just that things are stilted between them – they only speak when necessary and it’s cutting Zayn up inside. 

He spends a lot of time with his family and he spends a lot of time reading. 

But he also finds some time to spend worrying about the fact that Liam doesn’t really have anyone here to talk to.   
Sure, he can pick up the phone, but it’s not really the same. 

 

            “I was thinking,” Zayn says as they each pick over their breakfast the next morning. 

Liam makes a noise to show he’s listening. 

“Like, you must miss your family,” Zayn manages slowly.  “Maybe you could visit?” 

Except then he runs the words back through his brain and realizes how bad they sound. 

He winces. 

“I mean – we.  Like.  Um.  I could…meet your parents?  Unless you changed your mind about bonding with me.” 

The joke fell flat enough for Zayn to wince again. 

            “I don’t want you to meet them,” Liam says, returning to his breakfast.  “Not yet,” he adds after another moment. 

            “What like, only if we bond?  As a last possible measure?” 

            “No,” Liam says.

He chews faster for a moment.   
He doesn’t say anything else.   

            “Right,” Zayn mutters finally. 

 

            “I don’t want to fight,” Liam says, running both hands down his face. 

            “And I do?” Zayn demands.  “I just want you to be happy, alright?” 

            “Don’t worry about me,” Liam tells him. 

            “Is this really how you want to do things?” Zayn asks, “You want to just be indifferent until we hate each other?  For the rest of our lives?”  

            “No,” Liam says.  “Obviously.  But it’s not like I can trust you ‘making this work’ when you have ulterior motives.  And it’s not like you can trust me either.” 

            “Don’t we have to trust each other?” 

            “I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

Zayn blows out a frustrated sigh. 

            “No,” he agrees, “I don’t know what I want you to say either.” 

 

Zayn doesn’t let himself run to his parent’s house – but it’s a near thing.

He spends the day in the same house as Liam instead. 

It’s even worse than before though.   
Zayn wants things to change, but he’s not sure how to make it happen. 

He’d spilled everything to his mum barely forty eight hours after he’d officially met Liam and the only advice she had for him was _just talk to him Heart – be honest and he’ll come around_. 

Zayn had his doubts. 

But his mum is one of the wisest people he knows.   
So he decides to try again. 

 

He rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet twice before knocking on Liam’s door.  
Liam would hear him lurking anyway. 

Liam sighs before pushing out of bed and crossing to open the door. 

            “You okay?”

            “Yeah,” Zayn says on instinct.  “Or…no.  Not really.  I can’t do it this way.  I need you to at least give me a chance.” 

            “What’s the point?” Liam asks.  “We both already know it will be fake.” 

            “But it doesn’t have to be!” Zayn argues.  “I wasn’t lying when I told you I wanted to be with you – didn’t you feel it?  When you held me up?  When you cleaned me off?” 

            “How do I know you’re not just saying all this?” 

            “You already said you’d bond with me,” Zayn reminds him.  “Why would I lie?” 

Liam frowns at that. 

Zayn nearly grins in triumph. 

 

            “Can’t we just try?” 

Liam sighs at this and Zayn reaches out to take his hand – he chickens out at the last moment though, circling his fingers around Liam’s wrist instead. 

“We have to do this anyway, right?  So can’t we try?” 

            “You’re so beautiful,” Liam says after a moment.  “How could you want me?” 

Zayn flushes with warmth, lips stilling as he realizes he has no idea what to say. 

He’s had people tell him that before – of course.  But he’s not sure he believed it as much as he does now. 

            “Your eyes are kind,” Zayn admits.   
He glances down to where he’s holding onto Liam’s wrist.   
“And your mouth is so,” he pauses to sigh, “pretty.” 

Liam gently pulls himself out of Zayn’s grasp, tilting his chin up. 

Liam’s cheeks are flushed and Zayn feels warm all over again. 

            “My mouth is pretty?” Liam asks, catching Zayn’s lips in a soft kiss before he can work out an embarrassed response. 

 

Zayn trembles, warm and overwhelmed. 

He can’t fully believe they’re kissing. 

            “Yes,” he sighs as Liam draws back.  “Pretty.”  Zayn blinks twice, trying to force his brain to work again.  “Feels good.” 

Liam grins. 

            “You felt that too?” 

Zayn nods. 

His fingers are shaking.

“Oh,” Liam says. 

 

            “So, we’re okay?” Zayn checks. 

            “Yeah,” Liam says.  “Um.  Goodnight.” 

            “Goodnight,” Zayn returns.

…

Zayn wakes some time during the night.

His face and neck feel hot, his stomach tight. 

More on instinct than anything else Zayn covers his face with a spare pillow.   
He groans into it. 

It’s not the worst timing in the world but it’s certainly not good timing. 

Tension grips at his throat. 

Zayn doesn’t think he’s ready for this. 

Sure, he has a day or two before his heat officially hits – but still.   
It feels like no time at all. 

He knows he won’t sleep again so he does the only thing he can think of.  
Zayn goes home. 

 

His mum is so soft and welcoming, wrapping him in a tight hug as his father makes his way downstairs too. 

            “I didn’t really mean to wake you,” Zayn mumbles, half-hiding in his mum’s shoulder. 

His mum just laughs, ruffling his hair. 

            “It’s alright, having children makes you a light sleeper.” 

Zayn’s cheeks heat even more and he can’t help but think of Liam. 

Is this really going to happen?  
Are they really going to bond? 

His mum guides him back to the table as his father moves to the kettle. 

            “I’m scared,” Zayn admits. 

            “Scared of what you want, or of what’s going to happen?” 

            “Both, I think.” 

His mum hums before offering him a smile. 

 

            “That’s how you know it matters.” 

            “Why do you make everything sound so simple?” Zayn whines.   
Manfully.   
Manfully whines. 

            “I didn’t say it was easy, Love,” his mum says, clicking her tongue.  “I said it was important.” 

            “Here,” his father says, setting down some truly odious tea in front of him.  “This will help soothe you.” 

He laughs at Zayn’s face, ruffling his hair too. 

            “Careful,” his mum says then, “he says it tastes worse than it smells.” 

Zayn frowns harder before regarding the cup again.

            “Do I have to?” 

            “You don’t have to do anything,” his mum tells him. 

 

            “Being away from your alpha is difficult,” his father says, “especially with a heat coming on.” 

Zayn can’t look at the soft way his parents gaze at each other for long. 

            “Maybe take it with you,” his mum says, pushing the cup closer to him with one finger. 

            “If you’re gonna be gross,” Zayn mumbles, smiling anyway. 

His parents just laugh at him and Zayn admits defeat, internally at least.  
He picks up the tea, cradling it in his hand as he stands carefully. 

            “Goodnight.”

            “Goodnight,” his mum says, still smiling. 

 

Zayn is unexpectedly grateful to be back in his and Liam’s home. 

He inhales deeply and takes a careful swallow of tea. 

True to his father’s word, it’s disgusting. 

Zayn very nearly gags as the bitter taste of it hits his throat. 

He coughs, heading for the kitchen and trying to be quiet. 

Filling another cup with water, he abandons his tea on the counter and chugs it gratefully. 

He exhales slowly, turning to fill the cup with water again. 

His father said he should drink this and Zayn believes him.   
He’ll just do it like he’s taking shots. 

 

Upstairs, Liam is stirring and Zayn sighs. 

He hadn’t wanted to wake him. 

Zayn chokes down another swallow of tea, tracing a seam in the wallpaper with his eyes. 

A floorboard creaks as Liam gets out of bed and barely ten seconds later he’s coming down the stairs. 

Zayn wonders if he smells like heat yet. 

He takes another sip of tea and drains his water glass. 

Liam hasn’t bothered with a shirt. 

Zayn feels too hot all over again. 

            “Alright?” Liam checks again. 

 

Zayn pauses and sighs. 

            “’M gonna start my heat soon,” he says. 

            “Oh.”

Liam looks hurt is the thing. 

            “I know it’s coming on really fast,” Zayn says.   
He bites his tongue to keep from saying _I’m sorry_ because it’s not something he can help and he doesn’t want to apologize for who he is. 

            “So,” Liam says, hands curling and releasing, “earlier…” 

            “No,” Zayn says.  “No,” he repeats more firmly.  “I felt it just now – it woke me.” 

His emotions are choppy and quick like his breathing. 

“I’m not trying to trap you,” he says, “or trick you.  I want to bond with you – I think – but if that’s not what you want then just tell me and we won’t.”

            “Our families,” Liam says after a moment. 

            “Fuck that,” Zayn says.   
He knows he doesn’t mean it – not really.   
But too much is happening too quickly and he just needs it to stop.   
“You want me,” he says, “or you don’t.” 

He passes Liam carefully, making sure they don’t touch, and goes up to his room. 

Zayn doesn’t slam the door, but it’s a near thing. 

…

He doesn’t sleep. 

Can’t.  
Or won’t.

It’s too hot and Zayn feels guilt churning in his stomach. 

Isn’t it wrong to fight with Liam when neither of them knows what they’re doing?   
Isn’t it unfair to be angry with him?

Zayn tosses the sheet off himself again, sitting up. 

He thinks about taking a cold shower. 

It’s a temporary solution though. 

He really should have finished that tea. 

 

There’s footsteps coming towards his door and Zayn tenses up, hurrying to tug the sheet over his lower half again as the door opens. 

            “I brought a damp rag,” Liam says.  “Can I do anything else?” 

Zayn thinks about sending him for more tea.   
He doesn’t want to wake his parents again though. 

            “Is that tea still downstairs?” 

            “No, um, I dumped it and washed the dishes.” 

Zayn sighs. 

            “I’ll just take the rag then.”   

Liam crosses to his bed slowly.  He sweeps Zayn’s hair off his forehead with his fingertips, laying down the rag just behind them.

Zayn can’t help a sigh, closing his eyes in bliss. 

            “Some ice?” Liam whispers the question like it’s something precious. 

            “Please,” Zayn says. 

His lips feel parched and all he wants to do is drag Liam closer. 

 

Liam heads back for the door instead, jogging down the steps. 

Zayn sighs, pressing the rag against his skin. 

He can hear Liam rushing around down in the kitchen, cracking the ice tray until the ice cubes drop and clink into something glass.   
A bowl maybe?

Zayn drags his tongue over his lips. 

Liam jogs back up the steps, banging into the doorframe before he makes it into Zayn’s room. 

            “Okay,” he says, “I’m just gonna…put this on your skin, okay?” 

Zayn nods immediately. 

That sounds like heaven. 

            “Yeah,” he says, “please.”     

 

Liam picks up a single ice cube, dragging it along Zayn’s collarbone. 

Zayn gasps and shudders. 

He can’t think of why he thought Liam would dump the ice on him.   
Liam probably wouldn’t do that. 

Instead Liam drags the ice back and forth across Zayn’s chest. 

            “Want you so much,” Zayn sighs. 

            “It’s just your body talking,” Liam tells him. 

Zayn thinks about it for a second.   
He nods once. 

He doesn’t let himself say anything. 

In a few moments the pain will pass.   
He won’t care that Liam doesn’t want him

“Okay?” 

Zayn doesn’t say anything, he closes his eyes against the burning and nods. 

 

It’s only going to get worse from here. 

Zayn wonders how long they’ll be able to hold out. 

 

At some point Zayn sleeps.   
It’s a relief. 

…

When he wakes, Liam’s gone.  The rag is dry on his pillow and there’s a bowl of water on his nightstand. 

The curtains are drawn but there’s yellowed light peeking in, and Zayn wonders idly what time it is. 

            “Not for nothing, mate,” a voice drags him back toward awareness, “but I thought you said you didn’t want to do this.” 

            “He _definitely_ said he didn’t want to do this,” another voice cuts in. 

Zayn remembers that one. 

He can’t help but tense in his bed. 

The voices are close.   
In the hall?  
Maybe Liam’s room. 

            “We’ve talked,” Liam tries to say. 

            “He’s gone into heat, you mean,” Louis says.  “Convenient timing.” 

            “You know he can’t help it.”

            “Maybe he’s faking,” Louis suggests. 

            “We’re on your side,” the first voice says, much more gently. 

 

            “So, what,” Louis demands, “you’re just going to fuck him out of his misery?  For what?  You don’t owe him anything.” 

            “We both agreed to this,” Liam says.  “He doesn’t have any more to lose than I do.” 

            “You’re in over your head Leem,” Louis says. 

There’s a long beat of silence. 

            “He’s my mate.” 

            “He doesn’t have to be,” Louis argues. 

            “You could meet someone else,” the other voice suggests, gentler still. 

            “It’s already been arranged.” 

 

Zayn shifts. 

He lifts the rag and dunks it in the water before wringing it out. 

The three have fallen silent in the other room and he’s glad.

He doesn’t want to hear anymore. 

Zayn folds the rag again and lays it over his forehead. 

 

He feels ill, but more than anything, he’s tired. 

All he wants is to be in his room, back in his parent’s house, where he knows he’s safe.   

Zayn dips two of his fingers in the water and traces them over his lips. 

            “Just go,” he says.  “You don’t want to be here.  Just go.” 

He can probably make it to his parent’s house on his own if he jumps in a cold shower. 

If he goes soon. 

            “You weren’t supposed to hear that,” Liam is saying, heading down the hall.   
“We’re just…talking things out.” 

            “You don’t want me,” Zayn says. 

He’s stuck on that – and he can’t seem to help it. 

“You don’t want me, so just go away.” 

            “I don’t know what I want,” Liam says.

He pushes Zayn’s door open and leans in the doorway.   

            “I’m going into heat,” Zayn sighs the words, closing his eyes.  “You’d know if you wanted me.” 

            “That’s, uh, that’s not the problem.” 

  

Liam thought he was beautiful. 

Physically – Liam wanted him. 

            “Just go home,” Zayn tells him again. 

He’s not really sure how many more times he can say it. 

Zayn sits up slowly. 

He doesn’t let himself look at Liam as he dips his hand in the water and rubs it along the back of his neck. 

“My room is secure, I’ll be fine.” 

Liam’s too noble for his own good and Zayn doesn’t want to be his sacrifice. 

He gets out of bed even more slowly, ignoring the fact that he’s only wearing pants. 

The middle drawer of his dresser is shirts, and Zayn pulls on a t-shirt before digging for some trackies in the next drawer down. 

He wants to laugh.  Or maybe cry. 

Turns out he shouldn’t have unpacked after all. 

 

            “Zayn,” Liam tries.  “You have to understand…” 

            “It’s fine.”  It’s not.  “I’m fine.”  He’s not. 

Zayn can’t even think about his family.   
His entire settlement. 

They were depending on this. 

“What did I do wrong?” he asks, wincing immediately.  “Don’t answer that.  Don’t – I don’t want to hear.”

He pulls trackies out and shakes them a bit. 

It’s difficult to pull them on, Zayn’s brain is fuzzy and his chest hurts. 

He does his best to ignore it though.

            “It’s not you,” Liam says. 

Zayn closes his eyes, leaning one hand against the dresser. 

            “Please, don’t.” 

 

Liam steps into the room and Zayn sways a bit. 

He leans a hip against the dresser. 

            “I need to tell you,” Liam says, “I-I need to explain.” 

He takes a deep breath, shoulders rising with it and falling again. 

“They didn’t think I was an alpha.  No one thought I would present as one.  They didn’t even – I was little and sick a lot and they really didn’t even think I would live.” 

Zayn can’t really imagine it – Liam as a sickly child. 

He’s so…solid. 

“I didn’t grow up like an alpha,” Liam says.  “No one liked me.  Or, well, hardly anyone.  I used to hope that I was an omega just so I could feel like I was worth something – I’m…god I’m terrible at this.” 

            “Neither of us wanted each other,” Zayn says.  “It’s okay.  It’s alright.” 

It’s still really, really not.

            “I’m sorry,” Liam says. 

…

His parents are upset, understandably. 

Zayn thinks they’re mostly upset for him though. 

He can’t really look at them, so he can’t actually be sure. 

Still, he trudges up the stairs to his room and shuts he door behind himself. 

It’s both terrible and wonderful to drop into his bed. 

…

His father brings him more tea and Zayn chokes down a bit of it. 

He figures he’s got about a day left, maybe two. 

But then, he’s only been through one heat before this one.   
Maybe he doesn’t know anything at all. 

There’s a new cup of tea waiting on his nightstand when he wakes next.

            “How are you?” his mum asks. 

            “Tired,” Zayn manages. 

            “Liam’s changed his mind,” she says. 

Zayn can’t think beyond the sound of Liam’s name. 

“Love,” his mum says firmly.   
She reaches forward and lays a hand over his.   
“Are you still with us?  Do you understand what I’m telling you?” 

Zayn focuses on her face.  
Her eyes.

He nods. 

“Liam has changed his mind,” she says slowly.  “Do you want us to let you out?” 

 

The words trickle through his mind slowly and Zayn imagines wrapping them each around his fingers until he can slow them down and read them properly. 

            “No,” he says, frowning.  “He said sorry – he said he didn’t want me.” 

His mum squeezes his hand. 

            “I know, Love.  I know.”

She waits, knowing he’s not finished. 

            “He wants to?” Zayn asks, squinting up at her.

He sounds so young – but he feels even younger. 

            “He said so, yes.” 

Zayn doesn’t know what to say.  
He concentrates on breathing for now. 

“Drink your tea,” his mum says.  “I’ll come back when your head’s a bit clearer and you can tell me what you want.” 

            “I don’t want to do this alone,” Zayn says as she stands. 

His mum smiles at him. 

            “Oh my sweetheart,” she says, “you’re never alone.”   

 

Zayn drinks his tea, the whole cup this time. 

He sits up slowly and pushes his hair away from his face. 

It’s still much too hot in his room and his heart is racing, but he feels quite sober. 

For the most part, he already knows what’s going to happen.   
The logistics of it, at least. 

Zayn already knows he’s getting out of bed and going downstairs. 

He can only assume Liam’s already left a scent trail for him to follow. 

His heart feels like it’s climbing into his throat and he struggles to keep breathing. 

Is he really going to do this?   
Is he going to be able to look at himself in the mirror if he doesn’t? 

 

His parents are at the base of the stairs and even though they don’t reach for him, he can tell they want to. 

            “If you’re sure,” his mum says, “we support you.” 

            “Is anyone ever really sure?” he asks. 

            “Try not to worry so much,” his father advises. 

Zayn wants to laugh at that. 

His stomach is a bit too tight for it though. 

            “I’m gonna go,” he says. 

He wants to see Liam while he can still think.   
He wants to just…get a final reassurance he supposes. 

 

The smell of Liam is rich and Zayn breathes deeply, letting his feet trail back home. 

He wonders how many times Liam walked back and forth, laying down his scent to pull Zayn in. 

People are probably watching but Zayn dismisses the thought. 

For just a moment the thought thrills him.   
Let them watch.   
Let them watch him be claimed. 

The house is slowly coming into view and the door opens as Zayn gets closer.

Liam leans in the doorway, arms crossed. 

Zayn starts walking faster. 

            “Alright?” Liam asks. 

            “Yeah,” Zayn says, reasonably sure he’s not lying, “you?” 

            “Good,” Liam says, “yeah.” 

It’s one of the shortest conversations Zayn has ever had and he doesn’t care.

He pushes Liam inside and kicks the door shut before wrapping his arms around Liam and kissing him. 

 

Zayn was thinking about talking – and really he knows they should. 

He’s not even really in heat yet. 

But he wants Liam just the same. 

            “Stairs,” Liam manages, one hand already well up Zayn’s shirt.  “Upstairs.  Bed.” 

            “Right,” Zayn agrees, lips buzzing. 

He bites his lip and pushes away from Liam, heading for the staircase. 

Liam’s room is closer and it smells so, so good anyway. 

Zayn pushes in and sheds his trackies before dropping into the bed. 

Liam jerks to a stop beside the bed, just looking at him for a long moment. 

            “Jesus,” he breathes out. 

            “C’mere,” Zayn says. 

He sits up and pulls off his shirt, trying not to squirm at the press of the mattress against his arse. 

 

Inexplicably Liam closes the door before he starts stripping off his clothes. 

Zayn doesn’t ask though, working up his nerve and stripping off his boxers too.

            “Alright?” Liam asks. 

            “Take your clothes off,” Zayn tells him, “and come here – I’ll be fine.” 

            “Don’t want to hurt you,” Liam says. 

            “I’m going into heat,” Zayn says, “you won’t.” 

His arse was nearly throbbing with how badly he wanted something inside himself. 

His thighs even inched apart on their own accord. 

            “The knot…” Liam says slowly. 

Zayn shivers. 

He closes his eyes. 

            “How about we don’t say that word,” he suggests. 

            “Right,” Liam agrees. 

Zayn holds out his hand,

            “Come on,” he says.  “I wanna actually be…here my first time.” 

 

            “And you want your first time to be with me?” 

Zayn huffs, giving his fingers a wiggle. 

            “I’m sorry, was I not making that obvious?” 

He spreads his thighs further, dropping his hand to pat at the mattress. 

            “Okay,” Liam says, nodding once. 

            “Less talking,” Zayn says, “more kissing.” 

Liam pulls off his shirt and strips out of his jeans, finally climbing into bed. 

Zayn takes in a shallow breath, swallowing once as Liam leans closer. 

            “Alright?” 

            “Yeah,” Zayn says, “please.” 

Liam kisses him, leaning forward into it. 

Zayn wraps an arm around his neck, kissing him back even if the position is a little bit awkward. 

 

Liam pulls back and settles on his knees. 

            “You want to, um, lay down?” 

Zayn feels flushed, he tries to ignore it. 

He eases himself back slowly.  His thighs are still splayed and it’s as exciting as it is terrifying – laying out in front of Liam like this. 

“Have you ever,” he says, pausing, “with um, toys?  Or?” 

            “No,” Zayn admits, face well on fire. 

He’d always been too embarrassed to ask for anything of the sort. 

Still was. 

“Fingers?” 

Zayn swallows once. 

He shakes his head again. 

            “I heard it’s worse if you do,” he admits. 

            “’M just gonna start with fingers, okay?”

            “Um, okay,” Zayn forces out. 

 

Zayn jerks at the first touch, biting down on his lip. 

Liam draws back immediately, frowning. 

            “No,” Zayn protests.  “I’m okay – just – more.” 

Liam touches him again, tracing along his rim. 

Zayn shivers, a dribble of slick working its way out as he bites down on his lip again. 

Liam moans softly, nostrils flaring as he drags in another breath. 

            “Do you know what you smell like,” he groans. 

            “Omega heat?” Zayn offers, biting down on a whimper as Liam slips a fingertip inside. 

He pulls back out before Zayn can even clench down on him, sucking his finger clean and moaning. 

“Please,” Zayn sighs. 

            “Yeah,” Liam says slowly, “yeah.” 

 

He eases his finger back in, pulling out and sliding in again quickly. 

            “More,” Zayn grits out, “I need more.” 

Liam draws back and gently pushes two fingers back in.

Zayn shivers. 

            “You’re so wet,” Liam tells him. 

            “Just gonna get worse.”

            “Good.” 

Liam spends a long time with his fingers in Zayn’s arse. 

He spreads them and curls them until he seems satisfied. 

            “Please,” Zayn says again. 

He’s been saying it quite a lot. 

            “Ready?” 

Zayn nods as much as he can. 

            “Please.”

 

Liam shifts, the bed bowing as he carefully cages Zayn’s body in. 

            “Okay,” he exhales.

It nearly sounds like a question. 

Zayn whimpers. 

Liam shifts even closer to him, until all Zayn can smell is Liam – all he can see is Liam.     

            “Need you,” Zayn says, low in his throat, “need you so much.” 

            “Right here,” Liam answers. 

He reaches down between them and there’s a brush of something against Zayn. 

Zayn makes a low sound even as his legs spread just a bit wider. 

He tenses, something gripping at his heart. 

            “Liam,” Zayn manages to gasp out. 

It’s terrible, this weight on his chest.  These large words pressing against his lips and trying to escape – making him tremble. 

“Can’t do this if you hate me,” Zayn admits, eyes closed tightly, “don’t hate me.” 

            “No,” Liam tells him, shifting enough to lower his body and run his hands up Zayn’s thighs.  “Never,” he says. 

Zayn blinks up at him, stomach curling at the way Liam is looking into his eyes. 

 

            “I think I love you,” Zayn tells him. 

It’s too early, he knows.  Too early by at least half. 

But the words are so big. 

He has to let them out. 

            “I’m right here,” Liam says again. 

Zayn thinks he’s saying it instead of what he’s too scared to say. 

He nods. 

            “Y’can,” he says, “please.” 

Liam holds him a few moments longer, pushing himself up and bracing a hand on the mattress again. 

 

Zayn chokes on his breath as Liam presses in. 

It’s slow and intense – but it doesn’t hurt at all. 

In fact it’s almost like Zayn’s body draws him right in.  Like it’s greedy for more. 

Liam slips his arms under Zayn’s shoulders, twining their bodies together. 

Zayn wraps his arms around Liam’s back and reminds himself to breathe. 

            “Alright,” Liam breathes, his lips nearly brushing Zayn’s ear. 

Zayn keeps breathing, overwhelmed. 

“Zayn?” 

Liam shifts again, sliding barely out of Zayn and making him gasp. 

“Zayn,” Liam repeats, more urgently.  “Are you alright?” 

            “Mmhm,” Zayn mumbles, tightening his arms on Liam’s back. 

Liam settles back slowly.  

            “Tell me if you’re not,” he says. 

Liam draws his hips back slowly, sliding back in so smoothly Zayn’s mouth drops open on a silent gasp. 

 

As much as it is – Zayn can feel his body burning hotter. 

He needs more, craves more like he craves his next breath. 

            “Getting worse,” he exhales.  “Getting worse.” 

Zayn can’t really be sure if he’s speaking out loud or in his head and he needs Liam to know. 

He needs Liam. 

“Worse,” he says again.  Then, “Need you.” 

            “Right here,” Liam says, making it sound like a promise this time. 

Zayn holds on the best he can. 

Slowly he can feel things slipping away from him – he only hopes he doesn’t tell Liam he loves him too many times.       

…

Zayn feels like he could sleep for two days. 

Alternatively he also feels like he’s slept for two days. 

Liam stirs next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and tugging him close again. 

He doesn’t have to say anything, Zayn can see the concern in his eyes. 

            “Yeah,” Zayn says, “I’m good.” 

His neck aches as he stretches to look at his bond mark. 

He can barely see the edges of it though. 

            “You terrify me,” Liam tells him.  “I’m so scared of hurting you-”

            “I’m good,” Zayn interrupts. 

            “I’m scared of disappointing you,” Liam continues, undeterred, “of not being what you need.” 

Zayn is silent for several moments.   
He doesn’t want to dismiss what Liam is saying.

            “Isn’t it a little bit late for all that though?” 

            “Sometimes the things that you’re the most scared of turn out to be the best things,” Liam says. 

 

Zayn’s reminded of his mother in an abstract way. 

            “Yeah,” he says. 

He still feels weak and achey but he presses closer to Liam and breathes out. 

“For the record, you scare me too.” 

            “In a good way?” Liam questions quietly. 

            “Yeah,” Zayn tells him. 

_The best way,_ he thinks. 

“Tired,” he says, tugging a pillow closer so he can settle against Liam again. 

            “Go to sleep,” Liam tells him. 

Zayn huffs out a breath but doesn’t bother to actually reply.

 

Waking up next to Liam is pleasant, and Zayn finds himself smiling. 

He still aches a bit, in his thighs especially. 

            “Leem,” Zayn says quietly, “you awake?” 

When Liam doesn’t respond Zayn pokes him between the ribs. 

Liam giggles quickly, rolling away. 

            “Louis and Niall call me that,” he says. 

            “Is it okay?” 

            “Yeah,” Liam smiles.  “They call me Leemo and Payno too.” 

            “My mates call me Zee sometimes,” Zayn tells him.  “And my mum calls me all sorts of soft things.” 

He feels himself blush, closing his eyes. 

            “Mums are great,” Liam says, “I can’t wait for you to meet my mum.  She’ll cry though, like a monsoon.” 

            “You want me to meet your mum?” 

            “Yeah,” Liam says, “if you still want to – that is.  If I didn’t ruin everything.” 

            “You’re my mate,” Zayn tells him, “of course I want to meet your mum.” 

 

            “Mate,” Liam says softly. 

Zayn bites down on his smile.

            “Yeah,” he agrees, “and I like you a lot.” 

…

It’s hard for Zayn to believe how easy things are.

They’re in the kitchen for a late breakfast and Liam won’t even let him make bacon without wrapping himself around Zayn.   
He kisses his neck, lips dragging along his mark. 

Zayn jerks at the sparks that shoot across his nerves. 

            “’M gonna burn myself,” he mumbles, eyes half closed. 

Liam draws back, laughing. 

            “Sorry,” he says, “can’t seem to help it.” 

            “We just got _out_ of bed,” Zayn points out. 

            “Honestly don’t know if I can go again,” Liam says after a moment.  “You just look so good.” 

Zayn shoots him a look. 

He’s wearing an old t-shirt and his pants, too lazy for anything else. 

 

Liam just laughs again.

            “Just trying to be honest, yeah?” 

Zayn feels warm again, shifting the bacon to a plate. 

He turns and pulls Liam close again, tucking his face into Liam’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around Liam’s back. 

            “If we’re being honest, I think you might be the perfect alpha for me.” 

It’s quiet, so quiet. 

            “Yeah?” 

            “You’re not all alpha-y,” Zayn says.  “You scare my heart – not my mind.” 

            “You scare my heart,” Liam repeats.  “Sounds romantic.” 

            “We have a month before anything is permanent,” Zayn reminds him, “maybe I’m working up to the romance.” 

Liam kisses the top of his head. 

            “C’mon,” he says, “I’m starved.”

 

Meeting Louis and Niall again is terrifying. 

One look from Louis and Zayn is all but diving behind Liam, trying to completely hide behind him. 

            “Louis!” Liam hisses.  “Be nice!” 

Louis sighs and Niall laughs, not unkindly. 

            “Alright, come out, let’s shake hands and be adults.” 

Zayn takes a deep breath and then another. 

He steps out from behind Liam and forces himself to look forward. 

“Liam thinks you’re alright,” Louis says, actually offering his hand. “He has good taste.” 

Zayn shakes his hand, a bit shocked when Niall tugs him into a hug right after Louis releases him. 

            “Welcome to the family, mate.”

            “Um, thanks,” he manages. 

So it’s not meeting Liam’s actual family – but Zayn figures it’s good practice.

…

His mum looks so thrilled when she finally sees him again. 

It soothes something in Zayn that he really didn’t know he was worried about. 

            “You like him so much. I’m so happy for the two of you, Angel.” 

Zayn hugs her tightly, lifting her off her feet for a moment. 

            “I’m pretty happy, too.” 

            “That boy has a good heart.  And so do you.  We never would have agreed otherwise.” 

            “I guess sometimes you two know better than me.” 

His mother laughs softly.  
            “ _Sometimes_ , hm?” 

            “Sometimes,” Zayn repeats, unable to stop smiling. 

 

            “So you’re going to meet his family?” she asks, rolling her eyes softly and changing the subject. 

            “Yeah,” Zayn says, thrilling inside. 

            “And then…coming home?” 

            “Think so,” Zayn says, “yeah.” 

            “Good,” his mum says.  “When you get back we can celebrate properly.” 

            “Okay,” Zayn agrees with a laugh. 

 

Zayn goes home with enough food for about three more meals, still smiling. 

Liam’s waiting for him, pausing a movie as he moves to help Zayn find room in the fridge. 

            “How was it?” 

            “Good, yeah.” 

            “You are gonna tell me if something is actually wrong, right?” 

Zayn laughs loudly, surprised. 

            “Yeah?  Why?” 

            “You just say _good, yeah_ basically all the time,” Liam informs him. 

            “I’m good,” Zayn says, laughing once more.  “I am.” 

            “Okay,” Liam says.  “Good,” he adds, eyebrows up, “yeah.” 

            “Arse,” Zayn laughs. 

Liam steps closer to him, sobering.  
He catches Zayn’s hand and twines their fingers.

            “You scare my heart,” he says softly. 

            “Yeah,” Zayn says. 

He feels so remarkably at ease, standing in their little kitchen – holding Liam’s hand. 

“Me too.”        


End file.
